A Suitable Wife: A Sweetwater Springs Novel

by Carol Burnside

  Sam eased to the curb, since the driveway was full. “Any Southern post-wedding rituals I need to know about?”

  She smiled at the trepidation in his tone. “Can’t think of any. Chivalries went the way of the horse and buggy. Besides, that had some weird connection to the wedding night.”

  “I’ll carry you across the threshold.”

  “You did that at the hotel.”

  “We’ve got an audience.”

  “Right.” She ignored the stinging reminder of their true situation, then gripped his arm, in a sudden panic. “What if something’s happened to Lorelei?”

  She was halfway out of the vehicle before Sam’s voice penetrated her fear. “They would have called. We’ve both got our cell phones with us, remember?”

  “Of course. What was I thinking?” She pressed her palm to her chest and took a deep breath before joining him on the sidewalk. “They probably dropped by after church to bring her home and decided to wait for us.”

  “All of them?” He cocked his head toward her. “We could go in and see.” Taking her elbow, he walked her up the slight incline. Did he realize he’d been doing more of that lately, touching her casually, relaxing his guard?

  At the door he faced her with a pleased smile, his gaze affectionate and untroubled. “Thank you, Mrs. Moreland.”

  His formal tone had her responding in kind. “I’m afraid you’ll have to be more specific, Mr. Moreland. With everything that’s transpired between us this weekend, I can’t be sure what you’re thanking me for.”

  The light in his eyes changed, grew warmer with her reference. “Don’t distract me, woman,” he growled playfully. “I’m talking about your concern for Lorelei. The way you wanted to rush to her side.”

  “Oh, Sam, you don—”

  He kissed her fast and hard. “Don’t tell me not to be grateful. For you, that kind of loving concern is a constant in your life, like breathing. But for someone who doesn’t have that, it’s everything.”

  Was he talking about Lorelei or himself?

  Before Rosie could clear the lump in her throat and ask, the door swung open beside them. “I thought I heard voices out here. Welcome home, honeymooners!” Her mama’s exuberant voice effectively severed the fragile link with her new husband.

  Temporary husband, remember?

  More voices joined in, welcoming them home as Sam literally swept her off her feet, carried her inside and carefully returned her to a standing position. Her family applauded and cheered.

  “Don’t worry. We’ll be gone in no time, but with both of you having to work tomorrow, Mama thought you could use some help moving,” J.T. explained.

  “M-moving?” Her gaze darted to Sam, who looked just as clueless.

  J.T. laughed. “You were right, Mama. They haven’t even thought about combining their stuff.”

  “Oh, but—”

  Sam squeezed her arm in warning. “That’s very nice. Thanks.” He turned away as his cell phone played the familiar “cha-chung” sound from the old television show Law and Order.

  “Excuse me, I’ve got to take this.”

  “Don’t worry about it. We’ve got it all under control,” her mother shoed Rosie back a few steps as John Thomas and Travis came through carrying Lorelei’s toy chest. “You guys leave that in the hallway upstairs. If you go in, you’ll wake her.”

  Turning back to Rosie, she linked their arms and tugged her toward the kitchen, nattering all the way. “She’s been really fussy. Could be two-year molars are working their way through. Could be she was nervous about staying with your daddy and me. Who knows? But I thought you should be aware.”

  “We should tell Sam.”

  “Honey,” Rosie’s mama said with a tone reminiscent of her childhood. “You’re her stepmother. She’ll be with you for at least another sixteen years.”

  Not with me, she won’t.

  “Better get used to the drill before another one comes along.”

  Oh, God. “I just meant he should know too.” She hadn’t meant any such thing, but it served as a good distraction for her mama’s alarming train of thought.

  “You can fill him in after his phone call. I almost forgot. She felt a little warm earlier. You might keep an eye on her.”

  “I will. Thanks for taking such good care of her.”

  “Our pleasure, honey. It felt good to have a little girl in the house again.”

  Rosie smiled in response, since apparently no other was needed. Her mama explained what they’d moved and where. Half-listening, Rosie’s gaze landed on Sam who was pacing on the wrap-around porch, phone pressed to his ear.

  He nodded, a frown creasing his brow. That look she remembered well from his first few days here. He listened intently, giving short responses. The crease in his forehead deepened as he flipped the phone closed.

  Her mama’s hand on her shoulder jerked her attention back into the room. “We left Sam’s office intact. Didn’t want to disturb his flow, but J.T. and Travis said they’d be glad to come back and help him move it when you’re ready.”

  “That’s fine. He may want to continue working in there, where it’s quieter.”

  “Won’t you be renting the apartment to someone else?”

  “I don’t know, Mama. We haven’t talked about it.”

  “I suppose now that you’re married to a famous novelist, you won’t need the extra income.” She raised a hand, palm out. “Don’t say it. Let me guess. You haven’t talked about it.”

  “Well—”

  “Please. No need explaining what you’ve been doing instead. I know what it’s like to be young and in love.”

  Rosie wasn’t about to touch that comment.

  * * *

  After her family left, Rosie and Sam put away the last few boxes of things brought over from Sam’s apartment. He didn’t seem disturbed with the change. She didn’t know how to feel about it. They had a friendship with fringe benefits because of the length of time they’d be together. It was convenient, nothing more. Combining their stuff, using the same bathroom and sharing a closet was all very intimate, very couple-like, very married.

  Sam closed one of the drawers she’d hastily designated for his use, now full of boxer briefs and socks. “We should grab a few winks while Lorelei’s down. Neither one of us got much sleep last night.”

  “Mama said she felt a little warm earlier and thought her two-year molars might be trying to cut through.”

  “That explains the long nap.” Sam sat, removed his shoes and stretched. On an exhale, he linked his hands behind his head.

  Rosie liked the picture of him there on her bed. A longing rushed to the surface, so intense she almost couldn’t breathe. She squeezed her eyes closed. Don’t start. It’s not real. It’s not ever going to be real.

  Sam’s low chuckle jolted her eyes open. “You’re supposed to rest lying down. Come here.” He patted her side of the bed. “I promise we’ll sleep.”

  Despite the emotional turmoil inside her, Rosie fell asleep within minutes of her head touching the pillow. When she awoke, it was with a sense of alarm. Lorelei’s cries came from the hallway, accompanied by much deeper, soothing reassurances from Sam. Rosie glanced at her bedside clock radio. No wonder she was still tired. They’d only been asleep a half hour.

  Their evening meal preparations revolved around Lorelei’s continued fussing, despite their best efforts to placate her. Even a topical pain reliever didn’t alleviate the pain in her swollen gums for long and she refused to eat. By bedtime, Sam opted to give her children’s acetaminophen.

  Exhaustion sent them to her room—now their shared room—early. Not sure what she expected, it wasn’t for Sam to climb into bed after giving her a quick hug and a hasty “G’night.” He lay there a few minutes, staring at the ceiling.

  “Is it weird for you, being here, having all your stuff moved again?” she asked.

  “That must be it. I feel like I’m forgetting something, but it’s probably being in a new place.” W
ith that conclusion, he was silent for a few seconds, then spoke again.

  “You’re really good with Lorelei, much more patient than I am. Some days, like today when she was irritable, that’s the hardest thing to be with a child. When this is all over, you should settle down and have a few of your own.”

  Rosie turned on her side, away from him, and clicked off her lamp, afraid he’d see the pain his words brought to the surface. “Is that what you plan to do?” She choked on the words. When had she become a glutton for punishment?

  “Me? Hell, I don’t know. You think I should?”

  “You’re a good dad, Sam. Lorelei couldn’t ask for better, but it’s your call whether or not you want more children.” She gripped the sheet to her chin, wishing he hadn’t broached this particular subject.

  “Until Lorelei came along, I never thought of myself as daddy material. I guess my grandparents did an okay job with my dad, but he didn’t absorb much in the way of parenting skills. Take it from me, my folks should never have had a kid. If it weren’t for my grandparents, and summers here, I could have become a very insecure individual.

  “With that legacy, and knowing next to nothing about babies, I thought I shouldn’t take the chance on ruining some poor kid’s life. Now? I guess it’s not beyond the realm of possibility.” Having reached that conclusion, he turned away from her and fell into a deep slumber.

  At least he wasn’t snoring. She punched her pillow, irritated with herself for wishing he’d been a little more attentive. Hurting, because he’d unknowingly touched a sore spot and like an idiot, she’d pressed harder.

  Sam hadn’t eliminated the possibility of having more children. If nothing else, that interesting tidbit should keep her traitorous heart in line.

  * * *

  Sam awoke with a start. He eased from the bed, only to discover it was empty. Had Rosie already gone to Lorelei? Was that what woke him?

  A quick glance in his daughter’s room assured him she was sleeping soundly. He went looking for Rosie, unable to stem the surge of sexual interest he’d barely kept at bay earlier in the evening. Damn it, he didn’t want Rosie thinking he was insatiable, but she kept him hotter than an oil rig fire.

  He found her at the small eat-in table, sipping an oversized mug of fragrant tea, the light over the stove providing illumination.

  “What are you doing? Did Lorelei wake you?” he asked around a yawn, liking the look of silk and lace hugging her breasts.

  “She was thirsty and a little warm, but I gave her another dose of the acetaminophen and a drink. She went right back to sleep.” Rosie drained her mug.

  She caught him watching her, and he looked away. “Thanks for getting up with her. You don’t have to do that.”

  “You were sleeping. I didn’t mind.”

  “I’m usually the one that gets no sleep. We should try to rest. She’ll wake with enough energy for all of us.” Sam extended his hand, then stopped himself from reaching for her by grasping the wooden back of the nearest chair. “Are you coming back to bed?”

  Her eyebrows arched. “It depends,” she said in a throaty voice, letting her gaze drift lazily over him. “Is there a reason I should?”

  Man, it was hard to breathe with smoldering desire showing in her gaze like that. Sam drew her to her feet, “I thought you might be a little sore after last night. I was trying to give you time to recover.”

  “I’m fine.” Rosie leaned toward him, draping her arms around his neck. Her silk-clad breasts brushed against his chest, enflaming his very interested body.

  “I’ll say you are.” Sam raised her chin with his fingertips and captured her mouth. He couldn’t remember having this level of chemistry with a woman before.

  Rosie moaned as he deepened the kiss. With her body plastered to his, rational thought fled. She rimmed his ear with the tip of her tongue and feasted on his earlobe before working her way along the sensitive line of his neck. He gladly gave himself to the maelstrom of sensations and breathed in her scent—soft and feminine. Somehow, the light fragrance she wore mingled with what was intrinsically Rosie and raised it to an intensely arousing level.

  He sensed no reservation in the hands whispering over his upper body, stroking and memorizing every plane and hollow. Wanting her echoing his growing need, he drew back and stroked her breasts through her gown, lightly pinching and rolling the distended nipples until she gasped and pressed closer.

  Reaching under her short nightgown, he tugged at tiny scraps of lace with a goal of access rather than removal. He lavished more attention on her breasts as she pushed at his pajama pants and wrapped her hand around his hard length.

  Do you think it will always be like this with us? He poured the unspoken question into a kiss. It held insinuations of a long-term relationship, and he’d promised to let her go. He’d promised.

  When he couldn’t stand another minute of the sweet torture, his legs touched a chair. He plunked his butt into it. Rosie stepped out of her skimpy panties and straddled him, her hair messy and sexy as hell.

  He tugged her forward, their gazes locking.

  She swallowed, her eyelids heavy.

  Heaven was one slick thrust away.

  A faint cry drifted from the bedrooms upstairs, growing in intensity. Rosie froze, and Sam whispered an obscenity.

  “I’ll go.” She gave him a quick kiss. “Hold that thought.”

  Grasping both sides of the chair seat, he tried to regain his sanity while she stepped back into the scrap of lace that served as panties and hurried from the room.

  After several deep breaths, Sam righted his clothing and headed for the stairs, deciding to wait in the bedroom.

  “Sam!”

  Rosie’s cry of distress had him taking the stairs two at a time, heart thumping crazily. He rounded the landing as she ran into the bathroom with Lorelei in her arms. She stripped off Lorelei’s night clothes, snapping orders and information like a drill sergeant.

  “Run some tepid water. I’ll undress her. We’ve got to lower her temp. It’s a hundred and three.” Her voice mirrored the panic rising in his throat. She held Lorelei on her lap with a hand tucked around her chest and pulled her cartoon panties off. “Has she had symptoms like this before when she teethed?” She smoothed the damp hair off the little girl’s forehead.

  Sam shook his head at her questions while starting the bath water. “No. Nothing like this.” He helped lower Lorelei into the tub, her heated skin a shock. She looked so listless, her eyes dull and bloodshot. Cold claws of fear gripped his heart, bringing him to a halt.

  “I’ll bathe her. Call her doctor and see what he thinks we should do.” Rosie shook his arm, leaving droplets on his skin. “Sam?”

  “Right. I’ll be back.” He blinked hard against suddenly hot eyelids as he located the doctor’s phone number and punched them into his cell phone with shaking fingers. Please, please let her be okay. I should have been watching her, checking on her.

  “Sweetwater Springs Children’s Clinic answering service. Martha speakin’,” the mature voice drawled.

  Sam rushed into his explanation, but was interrupted.

  “You’ve reached the answering service, Mr. Moreland. Give me your number, and I’ll page the doctor right away. Meanwhile, you might try a tepid bath. It’s worked more than once with my grandkids. The doctor on call will be in touch with you soon.” Martha’s confident, matter-of-fact manner soothed Sam’s nerves.

  “Thanks, Martha.” He dutifully recited the number on his way back toward the bathroom and the sounds of splashing. “I’ll keep my cell phone with me.”

  Rosie squeezed water over Lorelei’s chest and shoulders. Wringing most of the water from a baby washcloth, she wiped the little girl’s face. He lifted her while Rosie wrapped a fluffy towel around her tiny body and took her temperature again. Lorelei remained limp, her cries weak.

  “How long ago did you give her the children’s acetaminophen?” he asked.

  “Less than an hour.” The thermom
eter beeped and she pulled it away from Lorelei’s ear, her eyes alarmed. “Sam! The bath didn’t help. Her temp is three-tenths higher than before. What did the doctor say?” Her voice shook.

  “I got his answering service. He’s supposed to call any minute.” He lifted the cell phone to indicate he was ready for the call, and she nodded.

  “I don’t know what else to do. I’m pretty sure Sara mentioned doctors don’t recommend alcohol rubs anymore. Should we try another—”

  The ring of his cell interrupted her. “Hello?”

  “This is Doctor Avery.”

  Sam explained the situation.

  “Bring her to the emergency clinic. I’ll meet you there. And try to stay calm. Young children often run high fevers over very routine illnesses.”

  “Thanks, Doctor. We’re on our way.” Sam ended the call, feeling slightly better now that a professional had agreed to look at Lorelei. “We’re supposed to bring her to the emergency clinic,” he explained.

  Twenty minutes later they left the dark of night behind, walked into the eye-stabbing brightness of the clinic and met Dr. Avery. He ushered Rosie and Lorelei through a pair of swinging doors, leaving Sam to fill in the necessary new patient information.

  He completed the tedious forms and waited for his insurance card to be copied by a woman in faded fuchsia scrubs. His nerves stretched tighter and tighter as he tried to concentrate on the task at hand. What if Lorelei needed him?

  Rosie’s voice reached him as he handed the clipboard of completed forms back across the counter. “You’re sure she’ll be all right?”

  Sam swiveled toward the voices, straining to hear every word. Rosie’s voice echoed his feelings, wanting to believe his little girl would be fine, but fearing it wasn’t that simple.

  “Absolutely. This antibiotic should take care of the ear infection. Keep the numbing solution on her gums as needed and give her acetaminophen every four hours for the next twenty-four, then on an as-needed basis.”

  The doctor’s words leached the tension from Sam’s system. He started forward as the handsome, young doctor and Rosie rounded the corner, their voices carrying easily in the empty corridor. Lorelei lay slumped over Rosie’s shoulder.